


Something That Breaks You

by LunaDeSangre



Series: Love is... [3]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: M/M, Possibly Triggering, Pre-Canon, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaDeSangre/pseuds/LunaDeSangre
Summary: Kelly adores Matt, really.It's just that he's starting to think he's not what Matt needs at all.





	Something That Breaks You

The thing with Matt, Kelly notices fairly early on, is that he's a genuine people-pleaser. You hint at wanting something done, or wanting something, he does it, or finds a way to get it. Behind your back, just because he can, for nothing more than a thank you or a smile, or even, Kelly guesses, the simple satisfaction of feeling useful.

It's _adorable_.

And rather terrifying, if he thinks too much about it.

Because Matt does it all unthinkingly, without even stopping to ponder anyone's motives, without a care for himself. It's not naivety, as Kelly believes at first—no, it's the overwhelming, ingrained and probably unrealized sheer need to _please_ of an affection-starved child that grew up too fast and too harshly, with a gigantic hole in his heart. It's desperate loneliness masquerading as happy friendliness, silently and unconsciously.

It breaks Kelly's heart. Because… _because_. Because he doesn't realize all that until the evening Matt finally tells Andy and him what happened to his parents, voice rough and teary gaze fixed on the floor, huddled on the couch knees to his chest and arms around them, fists clenched, probably-still-smarting right one on top.

(Kelly has a fleeting thought that he really hopes Griffin's eye is turning black, because the damn fucker sure deserves to be half-blind for a few days for the shit he's given Matt, but he's too worried about Matt to dwell on it—even if he's still ridiculously proud of the kid for knocking the shithead down on his _ass_.)

Kelly's next to him—mashed up against him as much as he can be is probably a more accurate description: right arm around Matt's back, right hand comfortingly stroking Matt's corresponding shoulder, knees tucked in the nook between Matt's ass and feet, left hand on Matt's left knee, forehead nearly touching Matt's hair, probably breathing into his ear. One little pull and he'd have Matt in his lap, but Andy doesn't even _look_ like he might try to make a crack.

(Which is actually another thing that's damn near terrifying, because Andy is _never_ serious. But Andy's grown damn protective of Matt, almost as much as Kelly is—but in that big-brother way Kelly will never be able to manage when it comes to Matt, because his intentions aren't that pure.)

It breaks his heart because Matt doesn't stop at just his parents' tragedy; he talks about high school too, and middle school and primary, as far as his memories go, of always being that weird scrawny kid with the too pretty face that never quite fit in, that spent too much time in the library because otherwise he ended up with gum in his hair and spit on his face, ripped books and stolen shoes or clothes, after pool showers when he needed them most, got somehow locked in classrooms and closets, and stuffed into lockers, thinking _Do firefighters check lockers when schools go up in flames?_ Of going home barefoot, scrapped or beat-up or all three, and ignoring the arguments, the shouting and the yelling and the tears, including his own, because then it would have meant hearing the words fag, and weak, and screw-up, looser, waste of space. It would have meant acknowledging he could never be a firefighter, would have meant giving up, and he had nothing besides his determination, no goals other than the firehouse, nobody to really rely upon.

It breaks his heart because Matt _excuses_ them, the unstable, guilt-tripping mother, the asshole abusive father and the selfish sister who couldn't get away fast enough instead of looking after her baby brother, and because Matt really, honestly believes what he's saying when he does.

It breaks his heart because when Kelly tugs him Matt goes with the motion, and lets Kelly hug him close, lets him pet his hair just like Kelly understands right then he'd let Kelly do _anything_ as long as it means he's not alone—just like he let Kelly kiss him and made him coffee instead of saying _no_.

Because Matt brokenly whispers "You two are my first friends," blue eyes too wet and too big and too honest, right there in Kelly's arms, not hugging Kelly back because he's hugging himself into a tight ball, like he must have done a million times before, and Kelly wants nothing more than to blame the cheap vodka Andy's cracked opened at this point and got even Matt to take a shot of for all this, but now he knows Matt truly has no idea what being a friend is like. That it doesn't entail letting people who care about you do things to you that you don't want them to do, or fooling yourself into thinking you want them to just because _they_ do, and you're afraid they'll leave if they don't get what they want.

He hugs Matt so tight and Matt just lets him, and Kelly has to bury his face in Matt's soft blond hair because he might start crying like a baby otherwise, or puke his guts out, or both, and he can't even look in Andy's direction, sitting in front of them on the coffee table, staring in horrified silence, because he knows Andy got it too, the huge, _hideous_ potential disaster Kelly's already unknowingly stepped into, the monumental fuck-up he's already nudged into motion without meaning to. He hasn't fucked Matt; that's his only saving grace: he's done nothing but steal a few kisses every now and then, a few more-than-friendly hugs waiting for Matt to reciprocate, to get over what he'd thought was _shyness_. But even just that, that's already too much, that's more messing with Matt's head than Kelly will ever be able to forgive himself for.

Because what Matt needs is _friends_ —actual, _real_ friends, like Andy. _Not_ whatever the fuck Kelly is. He needs stability and to be around regular, normal people, who can teach him what it _really_ is to be a friend, who can help him grow past all this, because Matt might be smart, and determined, top of the class and all, but emotionally speaking he's still very much that lonely kid who's only ever just wanted approval. Just because his hide has gotten thicker, tougher, more resilient, it doesn't mean what's inside is any more stable, any less confused and lost.

It breaks his heart because it'd be so, _so_ easy for Kelly to fuck him up _completely_ —and worst of all, without Matt even _realizing_ anything was wrong at all.

Matt falls asleep in Kelly's arms, either from exhaustion, emotional distress, the vodka or all of it, and Kelly would probably gently rock them both all night, if Andy didn't suggest Matt would be better off waking up in his own bed, voice low and soft, like Kelly's some kind of skittish wild animal he's afraid he might spook. Kelly scoops Matt up like he's the most precious thing in the universe (in that moment, Kelly knows with sudden, breathtaking clarity, for him, Matt is _exactly_ that) and Andy opens Matt's door, pulls back his covers, fluffs his pillow. Kelly lays him down with more gentleness that he's ever thought he was capable of, and Andy takes off his shoes, while Kelly stares at Matt's sleeping (and yes, _pretty_ ) face with increasingly watering eyes and a burning throat.

"Come on," Andy says, squeezing his shoulder, voice still too soft, "you need sleep too."

"Give me a minute," Kelly whispers.

" _Kelly_ ," Andy sighs.

"I'm not going to hurt him," Kelly insists just a breath louder, voice cracking. "Give me a minute alone with him, Andy, please."

"Okay. One minute," Andy breathes against his hair after a beat, squeezing both of Kelly's shoulders, "don't do this to yourself either, Kelly."

Kelly doesn't let out the sob building in his throat, but it's a close thing. Three heartbeats and the door closes softly, and Kelly wipes at his cheeks and tries to breathe deeply to calm himself down, but doesn't manage it. He tucks Matt in instead, comforter up to his chin, smoothes his hair a little, fingers butterfly-soft as they go past his cheek.

And then he leans down further and kisses Matt on the forehead. Just a gentle warm press of his lips with his eyes tightly shut, biting on the pain because the very last thing Matt needs is to wake up and see him cry. He kisses Matt on the forehead, and promises (himself, Matt's sleeping self, God, the universe and possibly Andy, though Kelly'll never tell him) that this is the last time he kisses Matt, unless Matt kisses him first. Because he can't, won't, is _never_ going to take advantage of him like that.

Not ever _again_.

He leaves the room quietly, and spends a few minutes leaning against the door in the corridor, in complete silence, blankly staring at the ceiling while Andy worriedly eyes his face.

The thing with Andy is, him and Kelly have never really needed words to understand each other. Kelly drops his gaze to Andy's and it's a done deal: in the morning, Andy'll be the class clown again, and Kelly the cocky idiot, and they'll show Matt what friendship really should be like. Kelly will swallow it all back, even if it means he has to stomp all over his own damn heart himself, and if Matt meets a girl, he won't interfere and will just let him live, will just let him be happy and normal for however long Matt wants.

They go to their respective beds in silence too, Andy squeezing Kelly's arm as he walks past (probably knowing a hug would just about shatter Kelly right then), and Kelly doesn't cry himself to sleep, because he doesn't sleep at all and refuses to cry.

Matt is _still_ goddamn eighteen. Kelly's barely twenty-one, and his heart is already in a million little pieces.


End file.
